


Unchain the Confusion

by NorthwesternInsanity



Category: Dokken, Music RPF
Genre: Gen, Humor, crackfic, practical joke, prank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 06:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14514864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: An onstage joke to annoy George gone wrong. George tries to get Don back via prank, but Mick ends up suffering the brunt of it. Don has no clue what is happening, and is hysterical. Almost entirely pure crackfic, with a bit of fluff





	Unchain the Confusion

Don wasn't quite sure what led him to do it.

Or maybe he did.

Either way, he had no idea just what kind of crazy silliness he was about to get himself into when he made that move during the guitar solo of The Hunter.

He did know his aim had been to mildly piss George off, by a sarcastic gesture onstage

George had been incredibly argumentative the past few weeks, and his drug use with Jeff had put an egregious strain on them all. They were constantly talking bad about him on the nights they were on the bus. Don could hear it from his bunk, and had to pretend he didn't. What was hardest was that he realized on nights they were in hotels, the same stuff was probably happening, and he just couldn't hear it. He wasn't sure what was worse.

George had actually been quite cooperative today. He hadn't argued at all, he'd been helpful when having to adjust the tour schedule for later in the week due to one of the venues having a water main break -meaning they weren't going to be ready to accommodate Dokken's performance. It was nice. But, Don couldn't help but want to pull a joke on George following the sudden breakthrough in his nasty attitude.

So when George got into his guitar solo, Don decided to act not only to play the joke, but also give the girls in the crowd a minor thrill, which certainly did result in a few audible squeals out there, and he walked over behind George, leaned sideways, beaming affectionately, and then rested his arm against the guitarist's back, then snuggled his cheek between George's shoulder blades. It actually wasn't as hard to do as he figured it would be, especially with George concentrating on the intricate guitar licks. 

He only stayed that way for a few seconds though, knowing that if George were to move, he'd probably lose his balance, fall down, and embarrass himself. That was when George realized that it hadn't been Jeff leaning against him.

He fixed Don with the most priceless look that wasn't quite sure whether to be disgust or pure confusion. It was all Don could do not to crack up. Luckily, returning to singing the lyrics was an effective distractor and prevented him from doing so. But, as the song ended, Don gave George a cheeky grin and winked, just to see what he'd do.

George rolled his eyes, shook his head, and gave a smirk as if to say that this was far from the end of this.

He decided to reflect the awkwardness back at Don. And he knew just who would be perfect to do that -if he could convince that someone to get involved in the craziness.

When they got offstage, George caught Mick before Mick could head off to the shower. 

"Mick, did you notice anything weird tonight?"

"Was Don asking you something during the guitar solo? All I know was he leaned up to you."

"Oh, no," said George. "Don didn't say a thing. It was the weirdest thing -he was cuddling his cheek in my back. Makes me wonder, he must be sick or something. Or do you think he got drugged somehow? I'm not sure what to make of it..." George feigned confusion, as if he had no idea what would have warranted that behavior from Don. It seemed to be working on Mick, as Mick looked pretty unsure. George knew this was especially easy to do with Mick, as he wouldn't have seen Don wink at him, or when he smirked back at Don. He had no idea of the prank behind it all.

"He didn't look sick to me. That is weird. Man, I was certain he had to have been trying to say something to you, because I couldn't believe that he was snuggling," said Mick.

"Well, he did. I'm not sure I want to deal with it, given how odd he's acting. Could you possibly look into that with Don? I think he'd be least likely to be defiant with you," pondered George.

"Well, I'll see if I can get him to talk to me and get a look at him in a bit. He's in the shower right now. And I need to go take my shower, because I'm gross," quipped Mick.

"Alright, you do that. Make sure he's not on something that somebody could have slipped to him backstage when you do. Not that it might be an all too bad thing for him to have been -"

"George, don't go there. Be nice. Go take your own shower while you're at it," ordered Mick, going off on his way. He pondered it. Don seemed to be aware of those certain things, and would be on the lookout for potential signs. And usually, when Don was sick, he got in a crotchety mood where he wanted to be left alone, not in an overly affectionate one. He was pretty sure if Don hit his head under something in a manor that was worthy of a concussion, they'd have all been made aware by a torrent of loud, swearing. So he was pretty sure Don was fine. But then again -what would have caused that?

It wasn't until Mick got out of the shower, having had time to think the situation through, that he decided he needed to take action. He went out into the dressing room, where Don sat on the changing bench, having gotten dressed in his street clothes and was still patting a towel to his wet hair.

"You come here," said Mick, beckoning to Don.

"Why?" asked Don, his brow furrowing with confusion.

Mick shook his head. "Never mind," he said, having already walked up to Don, sitting down next to him on the bench. "Let me see your eyes a second." He looked into Don's eyes. They seemed clear and equally reactive -Mick saw both pupils dilate as he got in front of Don, blocking out some of the light from his face. But he was positive something was up to result in that behavior onstage.

He reached out and put his palm against Don's forehead. It felt a bit warm, but then again, Don had just been in the shower a few minutes before. 

"Mick? What the hell, man? I'm fine -you wouldn't think I'm sick or something, would you?" There was a hint of a smile in Don's voice along with his slight sarcasm, as if he were amused by this.

Mick didn't say anything, but instead played along with it. Though Don was joking, he had to wonder if Don was sick or coming down sick to have acted that way onstage. He'd ruled out Don having hit his head under something and concussing himself, or having been slipped drugs somehow.

Trying to get a better idea of the temperature than his palm would give, Mick scooted over closer to Don, and attempted to put his cheek against the singer's forehead, as George usually did with Jeff when he suspected the bassist was running a fever, but it was too iffy for his less sensitive hands to determine. 

Don shifted away, looking more confused. Mick at least thought that the temperature he felt with his cheek was cooler, but he couldn't be sure, nor was he going to take a chance if Don really was sick and about to get himself into something stupid. After all, if Don was to the point of resting his cheek affectionately on George's back, there was no telling what else he'd do. Probably just about anything.

"Mick? Have you lost your mind?" asked Don, nearly laughing with sarcasm.

_I'm wondering the same thing about you myself, Donny,_ thought Mick to himself. He was actually starting to get worried about it. _What the hell is the matter with him?_

"That's it. We're packed up; we're headed to the bus," determined Mick. "Don, bed for you when we get there!"

Don shook his head, bewildered at Mick's sudden odd behavior.

"What the heck?"

"There's obviously something up with you tonight for you to have gotten all lovey-dovey on George. God knows -I don't think I want to know. You're not running a fever, but you're sick, or something's not right!"

Don cracked up big time. Oh boy, Mick completely missed the point of that one! Maybe he'd seemed too innocent and sincere with the gesture.

"Look -you're getting the giggles at nothing. It's like when Jeff goes 'frencho-fryo', except worse, because that is not something that you do on a regular basis. Come on!" Mick grabbed his bag he'd brought inside, as well as Don's, and all but forced Don to leave with him. "You can finish dealing with your hair when you get back to the bus. George and Mick are already there."

Laughing, Don followed Mick, deciding to play along with it. So this was all because he'd decided to try and piss off George. He might as well have enjoyed all the reacting to it while he could.

As soon as they boarded the bus, Mick started giving orders like a tyrant. Don was slightly disappointed Mick didn't use his German accent imitation doing it -that would have been the icing on the cake!

"You, Jeff, George -in the lounge, shut the door, and stay there until I say otherwise. We have a little situation that I have to deal with. Don, you're going to bed. Something's not right here. You need to go to sleep. Now." Mick set Don's bag down beside his bunk, and put his own bag under the couch across from the bunks. Confused, George and Jeff, who were sitting on the couch and talking, got up and went to the lounge. George pulled the door shut behind them.

"For Christ's sake, Mick..." Don snorted.

"Bed for you," said Mick. "No hanging around or drinking tonight -yeah, maybe that's weird for me to spoil the fun, but you don't need to get drunk when you're in that condition."

"Can I at least use the bathroom and get ready for bed, for crying out loud?" asked Don, trying to sound somewhat annoyed, but he was obviously amused. He never had been good at pretending -which was likely why it was so funny to him that Mick hadn't realized he was playing around. Then again, usually Mick couldn't see his face when they were onstage, so that could have been part of it.

Mick huffed. "Do whatever it is you do every night, and then come back out here. I'll be waiting out here to make sure you don't get up to more trouble!"

So Don went into the bus lavatory, laughing his head off at Mick's stern orders. He honestly couldn't tell if Mick was playing with him.

Mick sat down on the couch and waited for Don to come out. He knew Don had a so called nightly routine in there of hygiene tasks, and some nights Don could be through with it pretty quickly; other nights he took a while. Usually he was fastest when he was tired, and slowest when he knew George was waiting and George had done something to annoy him earlier. That said, he didn't get unreasonable in those cases or keep George out for longer than five minutes.

Tonight, it was beyond him though, since he was sure Don was tired, but Don was taking a while -probably fussing with his hair more than usual, having had to walk back to the bus with it rather than doing everything he'd intended when he was inside the venue. Don did tend to be a bit of a priss in that department. Part of him wondered if Don had fallen asleep, or maybe he really was sick and had passed out. He doubted it though. He was almost sure that Don was stalling, and it was related to this weird behavior. Usually, this was how Jeff was when he was overly tired and hyper at the same time. It just wasn't normal for Don Dokken. That was what made it so concerning.

Mick was just getting ready to knock on the door and jokingly inquire if Don had fallen in when Don finally came out. It had been slightly under ten minutes.

"Did you finish your 'nightly routine' in there?" he demanded. Don had combed out his hair, which was still semi-wet from the shower. That he'd obviously done that led Mick to at least think he had gone about washing his face, brushing his teeth, relieving himself, and whatever else he did before bed in the late nights that Mick wasn't aware of.

"Yes?" responded Don, once again seeming slightly confused as to where Mick was going with this.

"Good. Go to bed. _Right now!"_ ordered Mick.

Don broke out into another full fledged laughing fit in response. There was something about this odd mother hen behavior Mick had gotten into that was utterly hilarious, and Don couldn't stop. Of course, this just made Mick's suspicions worse.

_"Right_ now!" repeated Mick.

"Mick -I'm fine! I'm actually not even that tired. I'm not sick..." Don gasped out between snickering.

_"Right now!_ Sick or not, you're obviously more tired than you realize to get in this state, and you're gonna make yourself sick if you keep on. We know your immune system -and there's a reason your alias on this tour for hotels is 'Doctor G. Imsick'."

Don didn't even argue, and just snorted as a response. Mick was being ridiculous. If Mick had pulled this mother hen behavior at any other point, Don would have probably been forcing _him_ to go to bed.

"Mick -by golly, settle down. You're killing me!"

"If I'm killing you, then getting into bed would be a good thing. I don't care if you can't fall asleep -lie down in your bunk and rest. Right now! And stay there! All night!" commanded Mick.

"And what if I just don't want to and choose not to?" asked Don, trying to keep a straight face. To get his point across, he put his hand on his hip and cocked it in his signature way that just exuded sassiness, leaning against the bunk post.

"Heh! Tough noogs! You're staying in there -whether you want to or not!" said Mick firmly, putting a bit of sass into his own tone.

This of course set Don off snickering again, but Mick could tell by a slight shift of Don's eyebrows that he was digging through his mind for possible excuses to get out of his bed. So Mick had to dig for possible excuses too, and beat Don to them.

"-that is unless you have to go to the bathroom again. In that case, by all means, go. But go directly there, and when you're done, _you get your ass straight back in your bunk!_ Understood?! And I'll go get you a water bottle and an extra blanket so you can't get up with the excuse of being thirsty or cold -because you'll have what you need right there!"

Now it was official. This was the funniest thing Mick had ever done. Don had to cling to the bunk post to keep from falling over, going weak in the knees with hysteria. He didn't even try to stifle it now, just to see how much further Mick would go with it.

"Mick, have you dealt with the 'situation' yet?" asked Jeff, peaking his nose cautiously through the door from the lounge.

"No, and you two stay in there until I say it's clear, you understand?" ordered Mick.

"I can't believe that he's not drunk or drugged up." George's voice could be heard inside the lounge just before Jeff shut the door again. As if Don needed to laugh any harder. Now he was nearly on the verge of tears.

"Alright, that's enough. You're not going to cooperate, so I'm just gonna have to take matters into my own hands!" exclaimed Mick. 

"What...?" choked out Don before squeaking out a small cry of "oof!" as Mick grabbed Don around his middle and pulled him down, then pushed him into his bunk. 

Mick thanked his lucky stars that Don had a lower bunk. He had no idea how he'd force Don, who was taller than him, up to a bunk above his chest in height.

"Ow-w!" exclaimed Don through his mirth, though he hadn't been hurt in the process. It was more a response to the surprise. Of course, his stomach was beginning to get quite sore from this. Oh well, he decided that if nothing else, his abdominal muscles were getting a good workout. And he hadn't had this good of a laugh in a while. Considering all the drama that had been going on throughout this tour, it felt pretty good. Perhaps he'd have to cuddle up to George again at some point.

"Now lie down and rest!" ordered Mick, pushing Don down so that he had no choice but to go with it and land on his pillows. Fighting it would likely result in him slamming into the headboard, and that would hurt for real. So Don lay down, still snickering. As he said he would, Mick ran out of the bunk area for a split second, strictly ordering Don to stay put, and came back with a water bottle and a spare blanket, which he put at the foot of the bunk.

"You are gonna be the death of all of us tonight, you realize that?" inquired Mick rhetorically, placing his palm on Don's forehead one more time just to make sure he wasn't running a fever.

"For pity's sake, Mick, I'm fine!" exclaimed Don, nearly losing it again. Though he did realize to a point that Mick was being serious on that last one, and couldn't help but wonder what exactly Mick meant by that. Especially since Mick usually tried to stay away from any sort of chaos, and yet tonight he'd suddenly gotten so caught up in this hoopla.

"Yeah, I'm still not convinced. You can fight that battle in the morning. Goodnight," said Mick resolutely, voice suddenly void of all emotion. He dropped the sheet that Don kept hung from the upper bunk for privacy over him, and left the area for the lounge with Jeff and George, leaving Don in silence.

So Don curled up on his side, figuring that he'd get some extra sleep and use the opportunity to his advantage to sleep without the possibility of getting woken up over some crazy thing that the others managed to get into. He chuckled to himself over Mick's frantic behavior a bit longer, before the humor faded, and left him with one more thought that wasn't so humorous as it was a bit gloomy.

When did any of his bandmates really act like they cared except for when he was sick to the point of delirium? And did it take him to be out of his mind from it for George to back off his tendency to want to pick at him for every little thing?

He didn't want to spoil the humor of Mick's behavior by speculating that any further.

So he did as told by Mick, and subsequently fell asleep.

Maybe he did need it to keep from becoming sick from negativity.


End file.
